Before anyone else could even react, I was out the door, in a full sprint. This was cabin 13. I leaped off the porch. A path continued from the field deeper into the woods. I tripped over a branch in the dark and steadied myself with my hand to keep from tumbling over.
Behind me, I heard Fiske shout, gathering his men. “Charlie, wait! Please!”
It was completely dark, the moon covered with clouds, but ahead of me, the shape of another cabin came into view—14. I kept on running. The cold was like daggers jabbing into my lungs. Stealing my breath. Another cabin appeared, tucked into the trees. Not a light on or any sign of life inside.
Cabin 15.
Emma was close. I felt it. Some things you could just feel.
“Emma!” I called out. I wanted her to hear me.
I saw the outline of another dwelling forming out of the darkness. White wood, shingle roof. It was small, just like the others. But this one with a chimney. They could build a fire. And there was smoke.
My heart leaped. There was a light on inside.
I bounded up the stairs and onto the porch. “Emma,” I called out. “Emma, it’s me, Daddy.”
I heard a muffled cry coming from inside.
Behind me, Fiske and three of his agents had almost caught up to me. “Charlie, wait for us. Don’t go inside!”
I ignored him and jammed on the outer door. There was still a screen attached to the door and I pulled it open and literally threw myself inside.
A woman’s voice said, “Don’t come a step closer, Mr. Mossman.”
In the corner, illuminated by the light of a single dim floor lamp, stood Mrs. Shearer, in a wool coat as if preparing to go outside, one arm wrapped around my daughter, in her sleeping gown, her hand pressed over Emma’s mouth, keeping her from uttering a sound. In her other hand she held a gun, which she had pressed against Emma’s head.
“Don’t you even move a muscle, Mr. Mossman. I don’t want to do it, but I will. She’s just a piece of Jewish scum to me. Don’t test my resolve.”
“Mrs. Shearer,” I said, putting up my hands to show I was unarmed. “It’s over. Willi and Trudi are dead. Their plans have collapsed. There’s no point anymore. Give me back my daughter. There’s no reason to harm her now. No one else has to die.”
I took a step, but her eyes narrowed in a threatening glare, and she pressed the barrel harder into Emma’s head. Emma squealed. “Just stay back.”
“Okay, okay. Emma, don’t be scared, honey. I’m going to get you out. I promise.”
Outside, Fiske and his team ran up the stairs and onto the porch. Mrs. Shearer’s gaze darted to them, eyes dark and terrified.
I yelled, “Fiske, stay back! Mrs. Shearer, you can see now it’s not just me. You’re surrounded. There’s no way out but to put the gun down and give me Emma. There’s no point in scaring her any further.”
Emma was whimpering, terrified, her eyes wide little moons. She twisted her head and momentarily freed her mouth from Mrs. Shearer’s grasp. “Daddy! Daddy!” she screamed, trying to wrestle out of her grip and get to me.
“Honey, it’s going to be okay,” I said, as calmly as I could manage. Though inside, my heart beat feverishly. I held out my arms to show her how I wanted her. “Mrs. Shearer is going to let you go and it’s all going to be over.” I looked in the nanny’s eyes, pleading. They didn’t show much fear now, only the resolve to take this wherever it would go. There was no way out for her. Now it was just, how did she want it to end.
“Daddy, please, I want to go home now,” Emma said, crying.
“I know, I know, darling. You’re going to,” I said. I looked at Mrs. Shearer. “Very soon. You will.”
I heard a creak on the floorboards as Fiske eased through the door behind me, his hands protruding, showing he wasn’t armed as well.
“Tell him to get out!” Mrs. Shearer barked. “Get out, or I promise, your daughter’s brains will be all over this floor.”
“Please, do what she says,” I said, and spun around, my heart exploding with fear. “I’ll be all right. Please.”
He backed out, giving me a dart of his eyes to say, My men are in position.
“So it’s only you and me now,” I said, looking back at Mrs. Shearer, taking another step toward her. “Let Emma go. I’ll stay. You can do whatever you want to me. Let the child go, Mrs. Shearer. You don’t have any issue against her.”
“Willi and Trudi are dead, you say?”
“Yes. She shot him. Then she shot herself.”
“Shot him…” Her lips creased into a wistful smile. “Shot the person she loved most in the world. A brave woman, that Trudi. She always did have more resolve than him.”
“It doesn’t have to end like that here…,” I said. “Look…” I took another step. “Just hear me ou—”
Her hand holding the gun leaped up and she jerked on the trigger. I heard a report and then a searing pain lanced into my shoulder. My arm went to it and I buckled in pain. Emma screamed, “Daddy!” and it took everything the old woman had to hold on to her by the collar as my daughter desperately tried to get to me.
I lifted my hand and saw a flower of blood had spread on my jacket. “I’m all right. I’m all right, honey,” I said, rising back up. My knees were weak. I could barely stand.
“Are you all right in there, Charlie?” Fiske called out. Footsteps scurried around the side of the house.
“Yes. Yes. Just stay out. I’m okay.” I put my hand to my shoulder and looked at the blood, then looked up at Mrs. Shearer. “Why?” I asked. “Why do you hate her so?”
Her eyes were fixed and dilated in her steadfastness and conviction. She tugged back at Emma, who was desperately trying to pull away. “Shearer is my married name, Mr. Mossman. My maiden name, you may know it, was McWilliams. My brother Joe, you may have heard of him.”
McWilliams.
It took a second for the name to sink in. Joseph McWilliams. The head of a group called the Christian Front. They were allied with Father Coughlin and the American Destiny Party. Trumpeters of Hitler. He was one of the speakers at the Madison Square Garden rally the night my life changed. “Joe McNazi” he was called.
“You’re Joe McWilliams’s sister…?”
She slowly nodded. “You had a brother. I’ve overheard you talk of him. Did you admire him, Mr. Mossman?”
I looked at her and nodded too. “Yes. Very much.”
“And I admired mine.” She pulled Emma close and pressed the gun tightly to her skull. Eyes wide, Emma tried to wrestle out of her grasp. “Daddy!”
“So you’ll tell him that I died a true sister in the cause,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she said.
She pulled the hammer back, gun pressed to the back of Emma’s head.
Emma screamed. I took a lunge toward her. “Please. No!”
She paused on the trigger, just long enough that from behind me I heard two blunt pops, and Mrs. Shearer’s head snapped back. Her hand let go of Emma and two red dots appeared on her forehead. She stumbled backward into the chair, her arms spread wide, her jaw slack, staring straight ahead. A trickle of blood ran down her face, zigzagging around her nose.
“Daddy!” Emma ran to me, in tears. I threw open my arms and hugged her as tightly as I’d ever held anyone without crushing them, almost afraid she would be taken from me forever if I let her go.
All around, agents rushed into the cabin. Shouting, radios crackling. They ran up to Mrs. Shearer. One checked her pulse and shook his head. “She’s dead,” he said.
Others came up to Emma and me.
“Here, let me check her, Mr. Mossman,” one of them said. “Just for a minute.”
“No,” Emma said, crying, afraid to leave my arms. She shook her head. “No.”
I looked at the agent and shook my head myself, and said back, “I’ve got her.”
I picked up my daughter and rushed her out of the cabin. I pressed her face close to my shoulder, and when we got away from the noise and commotion, I wiped away her tears. “I’ve got you,” I said. “I’ve got you, Emma. I won’t let you go. Never.”
She was crying, choking back heavy sobs. I held tightly to her small, convulsing body. “I’ve got you, baby. Daddy’s got you,” I said. “Everything’s going to be okay.” Suddenly I couldn’t hold back myself. My eyes flooded and my face became wet with tears and I could only squeeze her tighter and tighter to keep from sliding myself. Thinking of Mrs. Shearer’s glassy-eyed commitment at the end. Would she truly have pulled that trigger? She had hesitated just that much. The place became abuzz with police activity. Fiske came over, put an arm around me, and smiled at my daughter. “So this is Emma.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “I have a car ready. She should be at the hospital.” He glanced at my bloody shoulder, the blood seeping onto Emma’s nightgown. “So should you.”
I didn’t even feel it. My shoulder was the last thing in the world for me. “First we’re going to go home,” I said. “We’re going to go home now, baby.…” I hugged my daughter. I buried my face in her hair. She smelled so sweet. “Let’s go see your mommy.”